Chapter Eighteen: Ambush

Mélanyë sat by herself in the grass, idly fingering her bow. She had woken up alone, but that didn't surprise her since Lindir told her he had to take a watch. She had hoped to have forgotten her dream from the night before, but the images were still as vivid as ever. She tried to think of happy memories - her home, the Shire, the dwarf city in the Lonely Mountain - but nothing helped. All she could think of was how horrible the Orcs looked and the terrible destruction they'd caused. In all her distress, however, it never occurred to her to speak to Haldir about it, to tell him of the Orcs she'd seen here, in Fangorn Forest, even if it were a dream.

Her thoughts strayed from her dream to the image of her brother's face. She suddenly felt terribly guilty for nearly forgetting him. In her mind she saw him on the edge of a grey and desolate land filled with sadness and peril. The reminder of Frodo's quest made her own problems seem small and meaningless to her. What did one bad dream compare to the constant nightmare that he soon faced?

A tear fell onto her hand and startled her from her thoughts. She looked down at it and saw another fall onto the arc of her bow. She hadn't realized she'd been crying. Looking up, she saw the elven army around her, preparing for war. Elves tall and brave, and as she watched them she felt like a child.

'What am I doing here?' she thought, and immediately a voice from somewhere inside replied, 'you're here to help Frodo.' The argument was over before it had started. She stood and replaced the bow on her back. Gripping her sword-hilt, she told herself over and over again, 'I can do this'

Just then she heard a rustling in the trees behind her, but far away. A glance at Haldir showed that he had heard it too. He was standing alert, and listened intently at the woods. Aldamir was beside him, and the two were whispering back and forth. Lindir saw her and ran over to her.

"What's going on?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"Haldir thinks he heard something in the woods." He looked around suspiciously. "I thought I heard some rustling, but it could be just the wind."

"I heard it too," she said, pointing behind her. Lindir frowned.

"He said it came from over there," he said pointing in front of them in the opposite direction. "Maybe it-"

"Yrch!" Haldir cried suddenly, "It's an ambush! We're surrounded!" Immediately the entire camp was up and battle-ready. Mélanyë felt her heart sink to her feet. 'My dream,' she thought, 'This is how it started...' She took Lindir roughly by the arm and forced him to look at her.

"Lindir," she cried, "It wasn't a dream!" Lindir looked into her eyes and swallowed hard. He looked up to the others drawing swords and fitting arrows to their bowstrings, then back to her dark eyes.

"Draw your bow, Mélanyë," His voice faltered as he spoke to her. She had told him what happened in her dream. He knew as well as she did how it ended. She drew her bow as he'd told her and the two stood side by side aiming arrows into the darkness. The rustling sounds drew nearer, now no more than twenty feet away at most.

"Lindir?"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

"Lindir?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"I love you too-" He was cut off as the first Uruk-Hai barreled out of the forest towards the two elves. Mélanyë closed her eyes and let go of her arrow. When she opened them she saw that it had plunged in almost to the feathers in the Orc's chest.

Beside her, Lindir's bow sang as more and more Orcs poured out of the darkness. Mélanyë, now back inside her nightmare, remembered every arrow, every movement around her from the night before. She continued to fire her arrows, however, thinking to herself that maybe she could change what she knew would happen.

The two elves were an excellent team, but they were being driven steadily backwards, and the enemy's numbers seemed endless. Lindir soon ran out of arrows, and drew his sword. Mélanyë still had a few left and used them to keep the other Orcs from coming at Lindir from behind. Without warning, she felt a savage blow to her head and was knocked to the ground.

'No! This wasn't how it happened!'

She quickly scrambled out of the way before her attacker could strike again. By the time she had drawn her sword, the Orc that had assaulted her was on the ground with an arrow in its back. Looking up, she saw Haldir give her a quick salute before turning to fight again.

That's when it happened. Behind her, Lindir gave a horrible cry. She turned in time to see him fall to his knees beneath a huge Uruk-Hai. Her feet turned to stone as she stared in disbelief at the hideous beast looming over her beloved. A sudden and fierce rage surged through the small elf and she ran, sword drawn towards Lindir's attacker. He swung his blade at her head and she ducked it with ease. She met all of his blows just as she'd been taught, but he was just too powerful and soon had her pinned to the grass. Before he could deliver the death blow, she slipped Elrohir's dagger from its sheath and plunged it up to the hilt into its neck. The thing made a hideous gurgling noise before falling beside her, dead.

For a long moment, Mélanyë lay frozen on the ground. Shakily she pulled herself to her feet and retrieved Laspis from where it had been flung into the brush. After sheathing it, she retrieved her dagger. That was when she saw the blood. Her hands were covered in the sticky black blood of the Orc that now lay dead at her feet. As she stared at them she felt her head spin and her knees buckle. Without thinking, she dropped the dagger and bolted into the forest, where she was sick at the foot of a large tree.

Behind her, the battle still raged. She could hear far away, Haldir shouting orders, and the jarring sound of steel on steel. She knew she should be there helping them, but she was trapped in the horrible vision of the blood staining her hands. She wondered if she would ever get them clean again. She knelt there, weeping for Lindir, and for the innocence she lost the moment she had left her home. She wanted to hide from everything, to disappear into the night and wake up to see that it was all a dream.

Ripping her from her grief, an arrow plunged into the tree inches from her head. Absurdly, she noticed that the shaft of the arrow was thicker around than her fingers. She turned just in time to see Aldamir slit the throat of a large Orc holding a cruel looking bow. Not even waiting for the creature to hit the ground, he ran over to the elf crouched by the tree.

"What are you doing?" He shouted at her. As he neared, he saw her trembling and immediately softened his tone. "Are you all right?" he asked, crouching beside her. He began looking her over for injuries. "You're hurt!" The Orc that had knocked her down tore an angry gash just under her right eye. It was swollen and bleeding, but she hadn't felt any pain. It was all inside.

"I-" she stammered, "I just killed-" she couldn't finish the sentence, beginning to feel sick all over again. Aldamir looked into her eyes.

"You can't ever let your guard down, Mélanyë," he told her, an edge creeping into his voice. She began to protest, but he cut her off. "I understand what you're feeling. They don't!" He pointed at the Orc beside them on the ground, frightening even in death. She swallowed hard and looked back at Aldamir. "I'm sorry about Lindir," He said in a much softer tone. He stood and retrieved her dagger from where she'd dropped it. Handing it back to her he added, "never turn your back on them for a second, or they'll kill you too."

She watched him run back to the battle. After she lost sight of him, she stumbled over to Lindir's body and fell to her knees. His eyes were staring up at the stars, but she saw no life in them. With a shaky sigh she closed them and brought his hands up to lay on his chest. She kissed him, and lay her head over his heart and closed her eyes. There was no heartbeat, nothing that revealed any life within him. Overcome with her grief, she buried her face in his chest and wept.